


keeping in touch

by redpaint (orphan_account)



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Masturbation, Sexting, is nico a good or bad influence on checo? remains to be seen, post-2014 season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:42:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21923866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/redpaint
Summary: There’s still something in him that blooms hot and eager when he thinks about Nico wanting him so bad. All the porn on the internet and all the beautiful boys and girls of Monaco and Nico still wants to get off to him. He presses the record button and shuffles back on the bed as the video starts to roll.
Relationships: Nico Hulkenberg/Sergio Perez
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31





	keeping in touch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [untouchableocean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/untouchableocean/gifts).



> for jack the checo porn boy: merry christmas, this is entirely your fault. I definitely stole your fanon about these two.

Checo blinks and the version of himself on his phone screen blinks back. The phone is propped up on the dresser a few feet away. It’s a little better than when Nico makes him look in the mirror (at least the screen is smaller and he can look away if he wants to, none of Nico’s hands guiding his face back to look at his reflection), but not much. It’s still uncomfortable because this way he can see at himself like Nico sees him, from a distance. From here, he can’t really imagine what Nico likes so much. He’s already blushing, the flush visible even in the shitty overhead lighting.

He wishes Nico were there with him so he could close his eyes and just listen to Nico’s endless stream of obscenities and encouragements, anchor himself by grasping Nico’s shoulders. But he's not about to book a flight to get laid, that would be too much. Even when it’s Nico. Even when it would mean getting fucked for real and not having to embarrass himself in front of a camera to satisfy Nico's weird need to see him posed and debauched.

His finger hovers over the record button. Nico had sounded so excited, almost mischevious when he’d whispered in Checo’s ear. “Gonna miss you over the break. Want you to send me pictures, send me videos. You'd look so pretty. I want to see how much you miss me.“ He’d been balls-deep in Checo’s ass at the time, and maybe that’s part of why Checo had nodded so vigorously, but it wasn’t everything. There’s still something in him that blooms hot and eager when he thinks about Nico wanting him so bad. All the porn on the internet and all the beautiful boys and girls of Monaco and Nico still wants to get off to him. He presses the button and shuffles back on the bed as the video starts to roll.

The room is so quiet, and all he can hear is his own anxious breathing. Should he have put on some music? He thinks that the sounds Nico makes when they fuck are some of the hottest things he has ever heard, but he somehow doubts that his own have the same appeal. Oh well, there’s no way he’s stopping now. He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side. There are still a few dark hickies visible on his chest, a kind of goodbye present from their last weekend together in post-season testing. Good, Nico will like seeing those.

He kneels on the bed and rubs the front of his jeans a little. He would never do it if he were alone, but he catches a glimpse of it on the screen and he thinks it looks alright. Like he isn’t desperate to touch himself already, which he is. He had been for the past thirty minutes while he debated whether or not to do this at all. Even the light pressure is a relief, and he moans a little under his breath. “Nico,” he mutters, because if he is going to put on a show, then he’ll make it a good one.

Checo imagines Nico watching this video with a tight fist around his cock. The image is visceral, a conglomeration of every time that Nico has made him watch, made him beg for it and still said no. It makes his own dick jump, even under the layers of denim and underwear. He pushes the rest of his clothes down with a little more eagerness, sighs when he can finally stroke his own cock in long motions, still light enough to tease. He’s sitting up, so Nico can see his face. He looks at the screen only as much as he needs to in order to make sure he’s in the frame. Catching sight of himself totally naked, with his legs spread and cock on display, makes his cheeks burn even hotter.

God, Nico makes this kind of shit so much easier. Checo is way more willing to do anything if Nico calls him a good boy beforehand, even in the slightly mocking way he does. He repeats the memory of Nico’s voice in his head: _good boy, good boy, good boy_. He gets even harder, the first drops of precome beading at the tip of his cock. This could even be Nico’s hand on his dick. He could be holding Checo against his chest with one strong arm, reaching around to jerk him off in the other, whispering in his ear with his infuriatingly sexy accent. Checo arches his back into nothing but empty air, imagines it’s the firm plane of Nico’s chest.

He moves his hand faster, thrusting a little in counterpoint. He’d jerked off for Nico once before, because he had asked, but Nico had been sitting just a few inches away and he had run his hands down Checo’s stomach and over his throat while he did it. Nico must have sensed that he felt even more awkward than usual because he hadn’t made any jokes or snarky comments, just stared at him openly and urged him on, _yeah, yeah babe, keep going_. The memory makes him squeeze a little tighter. He rubs over his balls with his other hand, and it makes him sigh. If that were Nico's hand on him he would go further, rub Checo's hole with one insistent finger.

He feels half-crazed as turns around and sets his knees wide apart, leans forward until his chest is almost flush against the duvet. It’s like someone else is moving his limbs and he’s just along for the ride. Nico likes him like this. Or, at least, he likes to take pictures of him like this. At this point, half of his camera roll has to be of pictures of Checo’s ass, flushed pink and painted with ropes of come. Checo grabs the lube from the side table and pumps a bit onto his fingers. It’s cold, and he’s still so mortified by what he’s doing, but also there’s no way in hell he can stop now, this position leaving his body primed and aching for the blunt pressure of Nico’s cock against him. He needs something, even if it’s just his fingers. One, then two slip in, and he rocks back against them, wishing they were Nico’s. He never fingers himself when he's alone, barely fingers himself at all, leaves it up to Nico and his broad hands and his fancy German silicone lube. But now he can't imagine why he doesn't, it feels fucking perfect, almost enough to forget his self-consciousness and lose himself in the sensation entirely.

“Nico,” he says again, and he’s not even sure if it’s loud enough for the phone to pick up on. His voice pitches up higher when he’s close and he can’t stand it but it also makes his cock throb and maybe that’s just because he knows how much Nico likes it. Checo wants to be mad at how thoroughly Nico has twisted his insecurities into _sex things,_ and maybe he will be afterward but for now he just lets himself whine a little louder.

He won’t last much longer. He feels tight all over, his hand moving on his cock with pure mindless instinct now, the singular drive that wants _more, more, more._ Checo’s cheek is pushed down into the mattress, and he’s probably making horrible faces, Nico’s going to screenshot them and tell him he looks cute and he won’t know if he’s joking, but whatever, he can’t even care at this point. He clenches down tight on his fingers, _fuck,_ and then he’s coming into his hand and over the duvet.

The world spins a bit. He flops down on his back, carefully avoiding the wet spot. His heart is still beating like crazy, but at least the heat in his cheeks subsiding. Out from the haze of horniness, shame threatens to take shape. He can’t believe he just did that. The video is probably ridiculous and unflattering, not to mention risky. He can’t begin to fathom what the press might say if it got out.

He groans and sits up, rubs his face with his hands. The screen shows his hair sticking up in every direction. He leans over and hits the stop button, getting a close-up view of his pink face for the trouble. The wise option would be to delete the video immediately, pretend this never happened, and beg off to Nico: not enough room on his phone, no convenient time, bad lighting, just didn’t want to, whatever. That could be good, could be safe. But then he thinks about how Nico sounded when he asked, how his eyes lit up and how it went to Checo’s heart as much as his dick. There was something about Nico that turned _safe_ into _boring_ and _risky_ into _worth it_.

He sends the video.

⁂

  


oh shit  
  
fuck this is so hot.   
  
i can’t believe you actually did that for me  
  
only for you  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @ redpainterly.
> 
> this is fiction/don't distribute outside ao3


End file.
